The One with Magic
by anamatics
Summary: Jane catches a humdinger, Maura tries to find a cause of death, the only possible one is not what Jane wants to here. Other Law Enforcement Agencies get involved and Jane has to work with them to solve a case she doens't fully understand.
1. The One with Owls

**The One with Magic  
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_or Crack_

_Chapter One: The One with Fucking Owls  
><em>

_Crack, crack crackity crack. Because 1. 2x07 was basically canonly establishing Maura as knowing a LOT about the occult/Wicca/general magic. Therefore Maura went to Hogwarts, but wait. Maura went to school in France. So um... wait. BEAUXBATONS. Yes. Maura went to Beauxbatons. and 2. THE MOST ILLOGICAL CROSSOVER EVER THEREFORE IT MUST WORK. Also pop culture and sports references galore._

**Actual Summary**: Jane catches a humdinger, Maura tries to find a cause of death, the only possible one is not what Jane wants to here. And then other Law Enforcement Agencies get involved and Jane has to work with them to solve a case she doens't fully understand.

Notes: Huge thank you for the_kosmonaut for being wonderful and writing me the most cracktastic beta ever. YOU OWN GURL.

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><p>Owls, by rule, are not all that common in cities like Boston. While there is plentiful food for them in the preponderance of the rodent population that exists within all cities, they are simply unhappy with the lack of true night and the nearly constant presence of humans. Given that she knows all of these facts because she isn't a fucking moron, Jane Rizzoli cannot deal with the owl that is currently sitting on a lamp post just beside her girlfriend's car. It doesn't belong, it's big and a little bit terrifying and Jane doesn't know if it's on the endangered list of if she can get away with shooting it as it's a 'rabid' animal. She's not above embellishing reports.<p>

The bird looks almost expectant as Jane unlocks Maura's trunk and retrieves the well-worn pair of clogs. She raises her eyebrows at it and it nearly turns its head around, looking away from her. Jane makes a shooing motion with her arms as she tucks Maura's clogs under her arm.

The owl, as if to spite her, does not move.

They've caught a humdinger. Jane hates humdingers, but they make Maura happy so she's chasing down leads even though there aren't any as Maura does her autopsy. Or she was until she got a text from Maura asking if Jane could please run out to the car and fetch her clogs as her feet were killing her. So that's what Jane's doing now.

Jane gives the owl one more narrow-eyed glare, notices that it appears to be carrying a piece of paper attached to its leg and gives up on the universe at large. It's nearly eight o'clock on a Wednesday and she's hungry. Maura's going to be busy for a while once she gets her shoes and Jane wants nothing more than to go home and sleep. She reasons this is because she wants to stop hallucinating owls with fucking letters attached to their legs.

She hurries back into the building, shivering in the late October chill and wishing that she'd worn an actual jacket to work today. Her blazer wasn't going to cut it for much longer.

The morgue is warmer now than the rest of the building, and Jane revels in the warmth as she breathes in morgue chemicals and watches as yet another assistant of Maura's coats his upper lip in Vick's vaporub to cover up the smell of this guy. Rigor had completely passed by the time they'd found him and it wasn't quite consistently hitting freezing yet at night, so their body smelled pretty fucking putrid.

Jane wants to sneer at him and tell him to man up, but she holds her tongue. Maura's assistants aren't really in her purview and Jane is pretty sure that she doesn't want to piss Maura off by insulting them.

"Oh good," Maura says, shedding the expensive and painful looking shoes that she's been wearing all day and taking her clogs as Jane hands them to her. "I'm just about to finish the cranial exam."

"Anything promising?" Jane asks, Maura has sat down on one of the observation stools and is currently sitting in stocking feet, flexing and wiggling her toes. Jane supposes that this is to get the circulation back into them, but doesn't ask because she's pretty sure she doesn't want to know.

Maura looks off into the distance for a moment, and Jane can tell she's thinking hard about something; debating the merits of it and quickly discarding that potential c.o.d., moving on to the next one.

"Nothing as of yet." She smiles at Jane, her hand brushing up against Jane's forearm as Jane glances around and then leans down to kiss her. "I'll let you know if I find anything," Maura promises when Jane pulls away.

They share a smile, that same private smile that they always share when there is the promise of something more to come, later in the evening. Jane knows how she wants Maura, knows how she likes it and Jane wants nothing more than to give it to her.

"There was an owl out by your car," Jane laughs as she heads towards the door. "Wicked fuckin' weird, hah?"

She doesn't see Maura's scalpel-wielding hand go rigid and her face pale as she turns and walks out the door.

x

Normally, when Maura's going to be doing an autopsy late into the night, Jane will go over to Frankie's apartment with Jo Friday. They'll sit around and watch NESN and try not to talk about their parents, work, or their boring lives. It is a time for sibling-bonding over sports. Jane wishes, sometimes, that she could say that it's a brotherhood, but she's not a guy no matter how much she endeavors to be one in all aspects of her daily life.

She and Maura have talked about how Jane is not really comfortable with that aspect of herself at length and have agreed to not discuss it. Or rather, Jane had basically decided that they'd beaten the proverbial horse to death, they'd found workarounds, and all was pretty much good on that front. Or good at the surface at least. Jane doesn't think it'll ever go away. It's probably for the best. Jane has her way of doing things, Maura does as well. The dynamic _works _and that is all that anyone needs to know.

Frankie has a date tonight, however, so Jane is flying solo, sitting with Jo and Bass in the living room of Maura's house. She's talking to Jo, to herself really, when Jo begins to fucking lose her shit at the window. Jane squints through the darkness outside and sees yet another owl perched on the tree right outside.

Jane glares at it for a minute before digging in her pocket for her phone. She texts Maura that there's another owl hanging around and asks if there is a number that she should call to get animal control out here. She doesn't live in the same neighborhood as Maura (even though it seems more and more like they're living together these days) and Maura did have to deal with a rather nasty raccoon problem a few years ago.

Maura's response, some five minutes of angry glaring and phone book perusing later, is bizarre. _I will handle. Have no def c.o.d. coming home in fifteen._

Figures Maura'd want to see this for herself before that she came up with an appropriate response to it. Jane scowls at the window and turns her attention back to the random episode of Masterpiece Theatre she had found on PBS when ESPN was showing something dumb about tennis. Maura likes tennis, Jane gives literally no shits about it.

Jo continues to bark at the owl outside on occasion, but Jane ignores her. The owl seems happy where it is, so Jane isn't going to bother it until Maura comes home.

Mrs. Ashford is having some sort of tea party and Jane's eyes glaze over as she listens to the pretentious sounding British voices drone on in the background. They're talking about scandalous things that are really not very scandalous at all – apparently Ms. Penny Sandervelt is spending far too much time with the stable hand. While she fails to see how this is a problem, Jane is grateful for the background noise. Today has been a long day.

There's headlights in the window quickly followed by the sound of Maura's car cutting off. And then there is silence. Jane isn't used to Maura lingering outside, but supposes that Maura's checking out the owl and prepares herself mentally to be regaled with everything and everything that Doctor Maura Isles knows about owls.

She has a sinking suspicion that it'll be a lot.

Never the picture of patience, Jane checks her watch and stands, heading in bare feet to the door, pulling it open to ask Maura what's taking so long.

The bird is on Maura's fucking arm. Jane's hand is going for her gun and she's advancing slowly as Maura carefully detangles a piece of paper from the owl's leg. She exhales quietly when her fingers close around empty space. Her gun is on the kitchen island where she left it and god damn that bird has to be at least two feet tall.

Jane can take it.

"_Merci. Je suis désolé que je n'aie rien pour vous, ma petite."_ It is still strange to hear Maura speak French, even though Jane knows that she's fluent and has been since she was very young. Jane has asked her to speak it on occasion - she likes hearing Maura speak it.

Maura still bugs her to speak the Italian that she learned from her grandmother over the summers she spent down in Brooklyn as a child. Jane claims to not remember any of it, but when she thinks back on watching her grandfather teach her brothers how to play ball, she does remember a little bit of it. Not enough to communicate, but enough to find romance languages comforting.

The bird takes off and Maura watches it go with a wistful look on her face. It's wingspan is huge and Jane lets out a low whistle, eyes still trained the piece of paper clenched in between Maura's two long fingers.

She shouldn't be here. This is a private moment.

"Owls deliver your mail now?" Jane asks with raised eyebrows as Maura turns and smiles at her. The smile doesn't reach her eyes, which look worried and uncertain. Jane wonders what's bothering her, but doesn't ask. Maura will tell her when she's ready. Jane's sure of that.

Maura laughs nervously and nods, not really giving anything away. "They do on occasion."

Jane shakes her head and offers Maura her hand. "Come in side, Mr. Ashbury is about to reveal the latest scandal on Masterpiece Theatre."

"I can't believe you watch that."

"I can't believe owls deliver your mail." There's a finality about that, a 'so there' as it were. Jane likes getting the last word in. She's competitive and knows how to push Maura's buttons. Maura will never admit it, but she hates not getting the last word in.

x

"I need to tell you something," Maura says later that evening as they climb into bed. She's set a long and thin stick-like thing that Jane's never seen before on the bedside table. Jane is curiously peering at its shiny surface, a question on her lips.

Jane wants to say that she's distracted, that Maura's wearing one of her Patriots jerseys to bed and that she's really fucking hot in such attire. She can't say it, though. Maura has had her attention all evening - first the owl, now the stick and the pronouncement that she had to 'tell Jane something.'

Never a good sign.

"Shoot," Jane says, leaning back against the pillows and folding her arms behind her head. Her elbows are pointy, she hates them.

Maura picks at the comforter, her eyes never meeting Jane's own inquisitive gaze. "I know what killed your victim."

Jane frowns. "I though you didn't have a concrete cause of death."

"I didn't," Maura reached over and picked up the letter the fucking owl had delivered earlier and passes it to Jane. "At least not one that I could tell you."

It is written in ink and on thick paper that feels almost like cloth against the calloused surface of Jane's fingers. She squints at the writing, the ink blots and frowns. "I can't read this," she mutters, turning it over just to make sure she's got it right side up.

"It says that BDMLE will be taking over the case and that I'm to surrender the body to their officials first thing in the morning." Maura is still playing with the comforter, picking at it, rearranging the throw's tassels, not looking at Jane.

"The fuck are they?" Jane demands. She's never heard of them and she sure as fuck isn't letting them steal her case without a fight.

"They're a separate law enforcement agency; they're more equipped to handle cases like this." Maura's being evasive. Jane knows her well enough to pick up on it and she doesn't like being lied to.

Not that Maura ever directly lies, but her sneaky half-truths are even more frustrating for Jane because she's so transparent when she does it. It doesn't take much to know that Maura's lying about something - or avoiding being completely honest.

Jane sighs. She doesn't want to have a fight, doesn't want to tell Maura to just be honest with her. It never is that simple. It's never come easy for her, being totally honest with Maura. They know each other so well that certain things don't even register as half-truths or lies. Maura is secretive about aspects of her past, Jane just assumes that there were shitty and that Maura doesn't want to talk about them.

"Jane," Her voice is more steady now, and Jane's eyes lock on Maura. "What if I told you something so completely and utterly illogical that there was no possible way that you could believe me?"

"I'd ask if you were sniffing morgue chemicals," Jane would too. That shit is powerful and could very easily fuck you up.

Jane Rizzoli is very practical.

Maura's face doesn't falter and Jane's eyes narrow. _Oh shit, you're serious._

"I am going to do something now, and I need to ask you to not panic." Maura's hand has moved towards the stick that's still resting on her bedside table. She picks it up and Jane watches as it moves in her hand as though it's always been there - as though it belongs. Jane is wary, watching it. It's strange, Maura's looking off into the distance, her eyes closed tight.

Jane wonders if she should be running for a towel.

"_Accio Gray's Anatomy_," Maura whispers, staring at the bookshelf shoved off in one corner of the room. Jane's gun is sitting on top of it, her badge as well. And her watch.

The book tugs itself loose from Maura's many other books and Jane watches with wide eyes as it flies across the room towards them. She springs away as it lands in Maura's lap with a loud thump. Jo looks up from the end of the bed, a disinterested air settling over her as she adjusts herself to be more firmly on top of Jane's foot.

She is a logical person, Jane has to be. She relies on hunches and her gut, but at her core, Jane Rizzoli knows that there are certain rules that the universe must follow in order to for life to exist as she knows it. Maura making books flying across the room with just words was certainly not a part of that.

"What the hell did you just do?" Jane demands, eyeing Maura warily.

"Summoning charm."

"What?"

"A summoning charm, fourth grade magical school - I learned it when I was thirteen or so," Maura purses her lips and flicks the stick and mutters something so low that Jane can't understand it. The book flies back across the room and settles itself into the bookshelf once more.

"But how did you-"

Maura shrugs, "Magic exists Jane."

Jane can't comprehend this. It doesn't fit into her carefully constructed boxes that she uses to contain everything that she knows about the universe. She swallows, staring down at her hands, glancing over to see that stick in Maura's hand. "So that's a magic wand?"

Maura nods. "This is made out of sugar maple and has unicorn hair in it." She holds it out to Jane, who fearfully takes it in her hand. The wood is warm under her touch, pale as she would expect maple to be. She flicks it.

Nothing happens.

"Guess I don't have the touch, huh?" She says, handing it back to Maura.

There's a moment of silence, Maura staring down at the stick - _wand_- in her hand and Jane staring at her. "I couldn't even find the words to tell you." Maura whispers. "I just couldn't. I don't even like that I can do this - it doesn't make sense, it isn't logical." Maura shrugs, "Or at least it doesn't follow normal scientific logic – at least not at present."

Jane supposes that she's got a point. Magic isn't supposed to be logical, however. Jane has read enough fantasy books to know that.

"You're a muggle, you wouldn't understand, I kept telling myself that." Maura sighed. "I always figured that we'd get a case like this though."

"Like what?"

"Our victim was killed by magic - more specifically an illegal spell - and I'm sorry Jane, but Boston PD isn't equipped to handle such a case." Maura sighs. "The aurors are going to take over."

"Aurors?" Jane tests the word tentatively.

"Magical police, Jane."

x

Jane Rizzoli is not entirely sure how she can insist on acting as a liaison to a branch of law enforcement that she's never heard of before. She'll figure something out, just like she always does.

Jesus, Jane feels as though her world view is completely shattered. She knows that it isn't, but she can't wrap her head around everything that Maura told her last night. She had wanted a nice, quiet evening. Maybe some sex, but certainly not the lengthy discussion as to what was and was not a gigantic magical cover-up in recent years. Apparently about half the battles in World War Two were actually fought against magical forces where unsuspecting GIs were sent in to get magically slaughtered by wizards allied with Hitler. Jane was suddenly very grateful that her great-uncle Larry was in the Pacific Theater during that part of the war.

She cannot handle this. Doesn't know what to make of it, but when Maura texts her at nine the next morning, Jane is up from her desk and heading downstairs before Frost or Korsak can say anything. Jane can't help it. She's almost eager to meet another wizard, to see if they're all quirky and eccentric as Maura is.

The morgue is deserted when Jane walks in, but she can hear voices coming from Maura's office. They're raised, Maura is _shouting_.

"I refuse to allow you to use a memory charm on the entire investigation staff up until this point. You can very easily present paperwork that say that you are FBI or some other legitimate muggle institution, do that instead." Jane doesn't think that she's ever heard Maura sound so angry, she rarely even raises her voice.

"Heal-_Doctor _Isles," Jane can hear the contempt in this new male voice, "This is not your call. Just bringing this body into your facility was in direct violation of the Statute of Secrecy."

"At the time, no one _knew _that." Maura's voice has calmed, and Jane can almost hear Maura's mind racing from outside the room. She's standing stock still, squinting through the blinds at these two men, wearing leather trench coats and pinstriped pants.

Never trust anyone who wears pinstripes - it's a good motto if Jane does say so herself.

"Be that as it may, this case cannot exist on the Boston municipal record," A second voice, this one higher, more nasal - more _Boston_- could be heard. "I know that you prefer to work here, but please do not assume our office is not aware of your presence and keeping close watch on you."

She has to hold herself back, to not lunge forward and rush into the room and punch the fucker. She knows that this is a conversation that she's not supposed to be overhearing. She's a cop, her instinct tells her to stay out of sight until she absolutely has to step in. These guys aren't going to try anything here of all places, not in a place crawling with cops.

Jane can hear Maura sigh, can see the rigid set of her shoulders. "That has nothing to do with this."

"Your loyalties aren't exactly pure," The first man points out. "Your affiliation with an institution such as that… calls many things into question."

"It's just a boarding school. For girls who show magical promise," Maura protests and Jane frowns. What is Maura talking about?

"Beauxbatons has long been suspected by the American Wizarding government as being connected to several of the great wars that have recently taken place in both Europe and the UK." The second man points out. "How do we know you're not one of them?"

Jane watches with wide eyes as Maura rolls up her left shirt sleeve and points her wand at it.

"Suspicum revealo," she says, and her skin glows white, pure. "I am not a Death Eater."


	2. The One with Bureaucrats

**The One with Magic**

**Chapter Two, The One with Fucking Bureaucrats  
><strong>

_This story has really taken on a life of it's own. I had initially only intended it to be four chapters, but it might grow to be more than that, I'm not entirely sure as of this point. I've finished most of my other Harry Potter stories now though am primarily focused on this, although look for an update of _Little Black Book_ before the week is out. I do appologize for the delay on this, however, I've had rather a busy week and have only just now had the time to really put my head around writing an update for this story._

_There are notes at the end of this chapter if you are unfamiliar with Harry Potter's canon conventions._

_Huge thank you to Natalie for the beta. :3  
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><p>Her feet are shockingly silent on the linoleum that covered the floor of the morgue, Jane retraces her steps back to the door. She doesn't want Maura's <em>guests <em>to know that she was lurking, listening in on the conversation. There is a knot of fear in the pit of her stomach, churning, lurching as she pulls the morgue door open and slams it shut. "Maura!" she calls, swallowing her fear and schooling her face neutral.

She's terrified of what she might encounter when she's finally face to face with these men who have Maura so angry and upset. It's a foolish fear, she knows it. Jane can take them, Maura has her back, they've told each other that so much and Jane loves Maura for it.

She has to be there for Maura, has to have Maura's back now as Maura's had her back so many times before. She's promised it so many times, and now is her chance to come through in a big time way.

"In the office," Maura calls and Jane can hear the strain in her voice. She's still angry, but she's trying to hide it. Jane will tell her she was listening in later, it's the right thing to do. Maybe Maura will tell her what a Death Eater is.

"Got your text," Jane says, coming into the room, finally getting an eyeful of the men in the room with Maura. They are tall, brooding and appear to be wearing cloaks. Didn't they learn the rules? You can't wear a cloak or a cape if you wanna fight bad guys, you'll get your ass killed or sucked into a turbine. Jane can almost hear the voice in her head screaming 'NO CAPES.'

The shorter one, dark skinned and with the thick Boston accent turns to Jane and scowls at her. "Who are you?"

Jane can hear the unspoken, 'the hell,' before the 'are you' and she glares right back at him.

Jane holds out her hand, ever the picture of professionalism. She wants to strangle the guy for threatening Maura, for even fucking daring to insinuate that Maura's a 'Death Eater' whatever the fuck that is. "Jane Rizzoli, I understand that you're going to be taking over my case. I'd like to stay on and observe, as I understand that this is not exactly a normal murder."

"Then you should know that there is no way that we could possibly let you do that. This needs to be the BDMLE's case and no one else's." The tall, reedy-looking man frowns at Jane. "If you are aware of the nature of the case than I must ask who informed you of such facts."

There is something about this man that makes Jane want to scream. His smug attitude might be it, or the way that he's subconsciously flexing his muscles. Jane isn't afraid of a guy like this; she's tiny compared to him, all lean muscle and bad temper. She's Italian and third-generation, he looks like he's probably old stock. She hates him on principle.

So Jane raises an eyebrow at Maura who gives the smallest of possible shakes of her head. Jane knows then that she cannot mention that Maura's just brought her in on the most fascinating secret that she's ever encountered in her life – magic is real, and Maura can do it.

There are so many questions that this answers, but none come close to explaining the bewitching effect that Maura has on her. Maura is her everything, Jane cannot resist her, cannot say no. She is amazing and beautiful and Jane would really love to spend the rest of her life with Maura, should circumstances work out in their favor.

Jane folds her arms tightly across her chest, knowing badge and gun provide no command of attention with these men. They can probably do some bullshit spell and make themselves impervious to bullets. She keeps her voice lofty and disinterested, "An owl told me, and I want in."

Maybe she isn't quite above a little chest beating when it comes to defending herself and Maura from people judging their relationship. This is fucking Boston after all, they can deal with it.

"Auror Hodge, the statute of secrecy makes an allowance for partners of witches and wizards to be made aware of the existence of magic," Maura's tone is icy, far darker than Jane can ever remember it sounding like. She's impressed, honestly, at how terrifying Maura sounds. She's speaking with more of an accent, French-sounding and intoxicating. Jane's never heard Maura talk that way before, it is deeply intoxicating. She wants to hear it again.

Hodge looks from Jane to Maura and back again before throwing his hands up in the air and muttering,

"Why is it always the French?"

Jane wants to point out that Maura is not French, that she's Irish-American and has had a good upbringing. She wonders if it has anything to do with the school that Maura went to in France - the one that these chucklefucks seem to take issue with.

Boston Accent almost barks his request at Maura, "Have you got our body here?"

Maura pointed to the sheet covered body on the autopsy table and Jane can almost see the relief pour off of both guy's shoulders. Hodge, the tall one, walks with an uneven gait over to towards the body. "Detective Rizzoli, how does a wizard kill without leaving a mark?" he asked quietly.

Jane narrows her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. "Why, Auror Hodge, there are so many potential ways I could not possibly begin to tell you them all." She hates so much about this, she doesn't know what the fuck is going on and all she can do is pretend like she knows what's she's talking about. "The killing curse would be my best guess for this guy, though, right Maura?"

Maura, to her credit, says absolutely nothing. Jane wonders why she is so quiet, so angry. It makes her uncomfortable and sad, she wants to go to Maura, wants to hold her and protect her from this world that Jane still does not fully understand. No one can make Maura angry like this, it is not fair, is not right.

Jane is supposed to the angry one.

"I see that Doctor Isles has spared few details when it comes to the secrets of our world," Boston accent grumbles. He cuts across to stand next to Hodge and lifts the sheet.

"You are not going to apparate him out of here are you?" Maura's voice sounds distressed and Jane raises an eyebrow at her. She doesn't know what the fuck apparating is and really wants to ask but can't think of a way of working it into conversation without making it blatantly obvious that she has no idea what she's talking about.

It does, however, sound painful, like a foot fungus or something.

"There's protocol…"

Maybe Korsak knows what it is. He gets those a lot.

"I don't put much stock in protocol when you're so flagrantly disregarding it yourself, Doctor Isles," Boston accent says, lowering the sheet and resting his hand against the dead man's chest. "I will be in touch."

They vanish with a crack of what Jane will later come to know as displaced air.

x

"You can't just _erase _their memories, Maura!" Jane protests as Maura flips through a spellbook that she's produced from the bottom desk drawer that she usually keeps locked. Upon seeing its contents, Jane understands why. There's little wax paper bags filled with herbs in there, a full set of scales and pretty much enough 'drug' paraphernalia to get Maura arrested in most states. Maura explains at Jane's confused and terrified look that it's a brewing kit, for potions – not drugs. There's a few books shoved towards the back, old and shabby looking, with lettering that is so faded that Jane can barely read it – let alone discern what language it's in.

Jane cannot believe that Maura is legitimately going to do this, and is not listening to anything Jane says against it. Maura always listens – or at least takes Jane's opinion into account. Jane isn't accustomed to being left out of such a major decision like this. She's not sure she likes it. _No, not at all._

"I can and I will. I would rather be the one to do it," Maura purses her lips and flicks her wand a few times in a downwards clockwise motion with a squiggle at the six o'clock position. "If the department of magical law enforcement were to perform the spell, there's a really good chance that your memories, and possibly mine would be altered and I cannot stand for that. Erasing the existence of one John Doe is not as challenging as you might think."

Jane would hope that it was challenging, hope that it would be the most difficult thing in the world to do – because it should not be done. She's not going to fight Maura on it, because it's going to happen either way, and she's actually in agreement with Maura that she should be the one to do it because that John Doe needs justice too. She can't just forget him because the way he died isn't exactly kosher in the eyes of the regular police.

"But it's their _brains_. Frost and Korsak's and your morgue minions – not to mention Cavanaugh's. There's no way I can let you just fuck with them like that," Jane knows she sounds desperate, that she does not understand what is happening. Magic to her has always been parlor tricks and fake séances. There is no way that she can wrap her head around the fact that magic can kill, maim, and cause people to vanish into nothingness without a word.

Jane can't shake the fact that she doesn't understand magic as Maura does. She keeps expecting Maura to do card tricks or something, her magic is so much more powerful than that.

How the hell had she missed this all her life? She hadn't known anyone who had just up and vanished going into fifth grade the way that Maura had described it. There was that weird kid – Alex Lagano who had gone to boarding school in Salem, but his parents were well off and everything.

_Oh shit._ Jane knows then that that was why that kid was so weird. He had once somehow made Frankie's Game Boy vanish. No one had ever been able to find that damn thing after Frankie had refused to let Alex Lagano play it – he hadn't turned up at school the following year.

"Jane, I need you to trust me on this." Maura has closed the book and was standing in the middle of the room, wand held in front of her like a protective shield. "I am going to pull rank on Auror Hodge and Watkins – this needs to be done first."

Jane blinks, and steps behind Maura, watching with fascination as Maura moves her wand and whispers a word so low that Jane can barely make it out. It begins with a hard 'o' and that is all that Jane hears as the room warps slightly before settling, completely normal once again.

"Is it done?" She asks, gingerly leaning over to see that the once-complete autopsy report for their John Doe had turned blank. She flipped through the pages, astonished, and then pulled out her own notebook to find that her initial case observations and the few notes they'd been able to gather had also vanished.

Maura nods, pulling her mammoth purse towards herself and rummaging for something. Jane wonders if Maura keeps bombs in there at times, or at least a few blocks of C-4. The thing weighs about twenty pounds and it can't all be notebooks and Maura's i-pad and everything else that she absolutely requires to carry with her at all times. Jane is sure that there's a subspace pocket at the base of the damn thing and that someday Maura's gunna pull something insane like a hat stand or a gigantic potted plant out of it.

Jane is almost looking forward to that day.

"Aha!" Maura emerges from her purse triumphant. In her hand is a small wrapped piece of what looks like toffee. Jane takes it when Maura offers it to her and examines the label. 'Skiving Snackboxes' do not sound very appetizing. She flips it over and sees a garish yellow font proclaiming this to be a product from 'Weasley's Wizard Weezes, patent pending.'

"Eat the red end," Maura says, handing Jane the trashcan from under her desk.

"What's the trashcan for?" Jane asks, biting into the red end and chewing thoughtfully. It's a berry flavor of some sort, rather tasty.

Maura just smiles at her as Jane's stomach seizes and she's vomiting her entire fucking lunch and breakfast and dinner last night up into it. Jane has never felt so sick, so suddenly in her life and cannot stop heaving long after there is nothing left in her stomach.

"What the fuck was that?" Jane demands as soon as she can speak again. She's pissed, embarrassed and cannot believe that Maura did not warn her. "I'm serious Maura, what the fucking fuck."

"I need to have a reason to get you out of work until this case is cleared up. Take the trashcan and the other half of that candy with you and get your stuff from upstairs. We're going to Salem."

Jane shoves the second half of the candy into her blazer pocket and gives Maura a murderous look before stalking out of her girlfriend's office. She has to pause, vomiting again into the trashcan as she waits for the elevator.

Magic, Jane has decided, is fucked up and she wants no part in it.

Korsak takes one look at Jane, her trashcan, and the murderous expression on her face as throws up his hands and points to Cavanaugh's office with a nod of his head. There is no way that he won't give her a few days to recover from whatever the fuck is making feel so goddamn ill.

Low blow, Maura, low blow.

"Boss," Jane can barely speak her stomach is churning so badly. She is careful to not look down at the contents of her trashcan, she's sure to hurl again if she sees them. "I think I have some sort of stomach flu."

"Go, you've got more sick days than I do, take a few. It's slow anyway." Cavanaugh doesn't even look up from the paperwork on his desk. Jane realizes then that Maura's memory spell must have worked because everyone had been excited about the potential of a new case to work on, even though it was a humdinger.

Jane croaks out her thanks, gathers her jacket and gun from her desk and waves goodbye to Frost and Krosak, who watch her go.

"Weird," she hears Frost say to Korsak as she heads out the door, "Jane never gets sick."

Maura is waiting for Jane in the lobby, acting the part of the sympathetic (but yet diabolical) girlfriend to a T and Jane wants to glare at her but it makes her stomach hurt too much.

"Eat the other half of that now," Maura whispers in her ear as they walk out of the station and into the autumn sunshine. It's cool today, brisk. Maura shivers under her jacket and Jane holds her out mutely to Maura. She still doesn't trust her stomach enough to speak.

The yellow end of the candy is banana flavored and Jane chews it apprehensively and feels the nausea completely vanish from her stomach as Maura gingerly tugs Jane's jacket on over her own and takes Jane's trashcan from her and pulls the bag out of it and stuffs it into the public trash can just inside the parking garage.

"I…" Maura looks troubled for a moment and Jane shakes her head. There are no words that could make Jane feel any better about being tricked into losing her lunch in such an undignified way. "I should have told you. I keep forgetting that you don't know."

"Don't know what?" Jane demands angrily, jamming her keys into the lock on her trunk and opening it, throwing the trashcan inside.

Maura shrugs, "Anything about magic really. I've kept you separate from all these things for so long, I forget that you don't know all that there is to know about magic and how it works."

"What the hell where those things?" Jane asks, opening Maura's door for her and leaning against it as Maura climbs in.

"They're called Skiving Snackboxes, the one in particular that you had was a Puking Pastille they were invented by some students at Hogwarts School to get students out of class, but I've found they come in handy when I need to take unexpected personal time because of magic-related things." Maura explains when Jane comes around to her side and gets into the car.

"Hogwarts?" Jane asks, wrinkling her nose at the inanity of the name.

"It is perhaps the most prestigious wizarding school in the world," Maura says. "I wish I had more time to tell you these things."

"More time?" Jane asks, turning out of the parking garage. "Maur, it takes an hour to get to Salem."

"No, it doesn't." Maura says. "Park at your apartment."

x

Maura's hand is warm in Jane's as they stand in the alley behind Jane's apartment building amid the dumpsters. "I need you to stay very still," she says, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against Jane's. She lingers there, just long enough to nibble on Jane's lower lip, to let Jane give enough pause to begin to kiss her fully, before pulling away.

"Why?" Jane asks with a smile, leaning down and attempting to capture Maura's lips once again. She's uncomfortably warm now, Maura pressed tightly against her. She can feel the softness of Maura's body through her clothes and Jane forgives her all of the transgressions of the morning – the skiving snackbox puking experience – everything. Jane just wants Maura, no magic, no cops, no nothing. Just them, themselves.

"Because it's harder if you move," Maura mutters as their lips press together again, Jane's eyes are closed, she's lost in the kiss. Maura's tongue is moving against her own and Jane can't think of what could possibly be hard to do while moving.

Maura pulls away, Jane opens her eyes and takes a deep breath as Maura squeezes her hand and Jane suddenly feels as though she's being flushed down a toilet and shoved into a very small space all at the same time. She yelps, tries to flail away, but Maura's grip on her is resolute and Jane can see the alleyway behind her apartment vanish into nothingness.

_Down the rabbit hole we go._

It is over almost as soon as it begins. Jane finds herself righted, just off to the left of a lamppost, clutching Maura's dress as though her life depends on it.

There is no one on the street, but Jane keeps a wary eye out for fawns as they move up the road, Maura has yet to release Jane's hand and Jane is okay with this.

"Are we in Narnia?" Jane asks half-jokingly.

Maura sniffs, and Jane wonders if she even gets the reference. "No, this is the wizarding section of Salem."

"Oh," Jane says, and shuts up, looking around at the relatively normal looking houses with their normal and pedestrian looking yards and the older-model cars in the driveway. All of them are blissfully clear of rust from the salt they use on the roads in the winter- they look like Florida cars, Jane is almost impressed.

"So I take it that you don't fly around on brooms?" She asks, gesturing to a particularly well-kept VW Beetle that looks to be of an early seventies vintage.

"No, they do," Maura says, and Jane blinks. "I've got a broom up in the attic at home, if you want to want to go."

Jane thinks that that sounds fucking awesome.

"Sure," Jane says with a smile. "Why have the cars then?"

"To blend in, this is a mixed neighborhood, if the census is to be believed." Maura shrugs, as though this were the most obvious fact in the world.

Jane's starting to get a little annoyed at how easily this is all coming to Maura, but not to her. She doesn't understand a goddamn thing about this world that Maura's apparently a part of and she doesn't want to admit it. She needs help, she doesn't know how to ask.

They've drawn level with a rather nondescript older looking building. Upon passing it, Jane would have assumed it was perhaps an elementary school, or a converted office building. Maura's hand finally releases Jane's as they pause at the entrance.

"I hate that you lied to me about this," Jane says quietly as she stares at the building. "I understand why you didn't tell me, but I hate that you didn't."

Maura sighs, leaning against Jane's shoulder. "I could never find the right moment," she confesses and it doesn't make Jane feel any better. "There were so many times it was on the tip of my tongue and I just could not find the words to say it."

"Have you ever used magic to help on cases?" Jane doesn't know why this is important, but for some reason it really is.

"No, never. What I am going to do in here is entirely out of my scope of experience. As Chief Medical Examiner for Massachusetts I am privy to the fact that there are certain deaths that cannot be explained by conventional means; it is my duty to ensure that they are investigated fully – so I will be overriding Auror Hodge's decision to exclude you from this case." Maura shrugs. "Hopefully the head of the department will let me throw around my clout as Chief ME without question."

Jane's eyes are wide but she nods and follows Maura into what looks like every other Massachusetts municipal building that she's ever been inside in her life. It smells a bit like her elementary school, old chalkboards and winter boots, and it dimly lit in the hallways, sunlight streaming in from the windows on the doorways on either side of the hall.

They go down a flight of stairs and then walk towards the back of the building – it's shaped like a 'c' and Jane is grateful for that as it makes it easier for her to track where they are.

Maura raps twice on a door that is simply labeled 'Head Auror' in black paint and waits. The whole thing is very Sam Spade and Jane wonders if Bogart himself will walk out the door to great them.

What she's greeted with is something very different indeed. The door swings open to reveal a small, green-skinned… Jane wants to say a goblin, but she doesn't know if that's a pc term and doesn't want to offend.

"What," The voice that the goblin-creature speaks in is female sounding, and Jane can't look away from her. She knows that it's rude to stare, but the creature's nostrils are completely prominent and unavoidable. They're large and upturned much like her nose.

Maura opens her mouth and closes it once, gathering herself as the goblin snips, "I don't have all day."

Jane moves to step in, but Maura's hand falls onto Jane's forearm, warning her to keep quiet.

"Hello Auror Na'Tavi, it is good to see you again," Maura's voice is diplomatic and polite, the voice she uses when speaking to the upper echelons of society. Jane raises her eyebrows.

"Wish I could say the same, Isles," the goblin scowls. "What do you want this time?"

"Could we come in?" Maura asks, searching around the hallway up and down.

Na'Tavi looks at Jane for a long minute and shakes her head, "No, I don't like muggles in my office."

Jane scowls, biting her tongue to keep from retorting angrily about the size of this woman's nostrils.

"_She_," Jane winces at the emphasis that Maura puts on the female pronoun, "is the detective that caught Aaron Bridge's case, since Detective Rizzoli is already aware of the case and of magic -"

"Because she's fucking you," The goblin supplies, eyeing Maura up and down, eyes lingering on her breasts. "Can't say I blame her."

That was it, Jane has had it. She doesn't even care that this creature is fucking four and a half feet tall and she's a good foot and change taller than her.

Jane bends, lowers her fist and punches the goblin Na'Tavi squarely across the mouth. "You take that back," Jane growls, pulling her hand away, her face contorted in anger.

Na'Tavi spits a tooth out onto the ground, a replacement growing into place before Jane's wide and shocked eyes. "You're fierce Rizzoli, you can stay on the case."

Later Jane is sitting across from Auror Hodge at his desk in the wizarding cop's version of a bullpen, nursing her sore hand. He raises his eyebrows, "I see you've met The Admiral."

Jane shakes her head. _Fucking bureaucrats._

* * *

><p><strong>Notes if you are unfamiliar with Harry Potter canon:<strong>

- Wizarding police are called Aurors. They work in city or district wide departments of magical law enforcement.

- Wizards are known to dress more conservatively and datedly. While the film versions of Harry Potter seemed to disprove this theory, many older wizards can be seen wearing clothing (waistcoats and the like) that would not look out of place in say, 1890. They also have a strange fetish for capes.

-Generally speaking, non magical people (muggles) do not know that magic exists. If they do, it is because someone close to them, a family member or a lover is a witch or a wizard. For Jane to know about magic would be considered jarring for some of the more traditionally minded wizards, who believe that muggles should not ever know that magic exists.

- Apparation is the act of moving yourself magically from one place to another. Generally speaking young witches and wizards learn how to do this around ~16 years and you must be licensed to preform this spell, much like driving.

- Memory spells are done often to cover up mass exposure of non-magical people to acts of magic. The one that Maura does is similar to the one used by Hermione Granger in the introduction of the first _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_film.

- Skiving Snackboxes are a product invented by Fred and George Weasley, two then-sixth year students at Hogwarts School to aid students in getting out of class. They are in two parts, the first being the initial nosebleed, coughing/sneezing fit, vomit bit, and then the second half which is to be consumed after one has already gotten out of class. These and many other products are sold at the joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Weezes.

- Wizards fly on brooms, but not to get from place to place. There are other methods of doing that which do not take nearly as long.

- Goblins are real, disagreeable creatures who have had many wars. They are notoriously petty and bureaucratic.


End file.
